g
Should be loving, and faithful, and brave,
Than be titled, and wealthy, and fickle;--
E'en though poverty held him a slave.

Oh, my heart yearns for one that is noble,--
In mind, not in riches or birth,
Who would love me, and value my love too,
Then my lot would be heaven on earth.
But where, alas, where shall I find him?
This man, that my heart longs for so?
This idol I picture and dream of,--
Does he live? I'm inclined to say, no.

He is merely a fanciful hero,
That my heart has pictured so fair:
I must stoop from my realm of wild fancy,
And take what may fall to my share.
Some plain, honest, working mechanic,
May be the prize I may call mine,
But if shaped like a man he'll be better,
Nor be left lonely, without Valentine.

Claude.

I named him Claude, 'twas a strange conceit,
'Twas a name that no relatives ever bore;
Yet there lingered around it a mem'ry sweet,
Of a face and a voice I miss evermore.

I was pacing the deck of a captive ship,
That was straining its cables to get away,
From the parched up town, and its crowded slip,
To its home on the wave and its life in the spray.

When I saw the beautiful, sorrowful dame,--
And never, oh, never, shall I forget
The sweet chord struck as she spoke the name,
That thrilled through my being and lingers yet.

'Twas a winsome woman with raven hair,
And a lovely face, and a beaming eye,
With a smile that of joy and sorrow had share,
And her form had the charms for which sculptors vie.

I never had seen such a lovely hand,
As the one that she pressed to her snowy brow;
And her parted lips, showed a glistening band,
Of pearly teeth in an even row.

A fragrant scent like a rose's breath,
Hung round her and seemed of herself a part,
And a bouquet of lillies as pale as death,
Drooped sadly above her beating heart.

She only uttered the one word, "Claude,"
But oh! 'twas so touchingly, sweetly said;--
A volume of grief expressed in a word,
As she stedfastly gazed through the void overhead.

Then I noticed the sombre garments she wore,
And I knew the grim reaper had gathered her flower
'Twas the sense of the heart-crushing sorrow she bore,
Invested that name with such marvellous power.

She went ashore, and we sailed away,
'Twas the first and the only time ever we met,
But my memory limns her as lovely to-day,
As she was on that day I can never forget.

Months after, my baby boy came unto me,
And I gave him the